Falling Walls
by Kait Hobbit
Summary: When a wall fell during the last battle, Fred's world came crashing down. Now Fred , for one year, can travel between his old life and his afterlife. Only the good die young, but what do you do when you see your world change without you?
1. All Fall Down

D: I own nothing but random ideas. Character's are JKR

AN: Alright. So the series has been over for two years this July. Two years ago, the war was settled and people had to accept that Ron and Hermione got together, Draco didn't marry Ginny, and Harry didn't buy a baby name's book. But for some reason, two years after the fact, I still like writing for Fred and George. Perhaps it's because I fought Fred's death for while, perhaps it's because I was irked JK mentioned Percy but not George in the 19-years later. Either way, for whatever reason, I can't let my twins--or their fan fiction--go. So, here's Fred's side of things after the wall fell. . . i hate all walls now, just for the record...

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Chapter One: Dancing

They say that there is a special place you go if you are among those that die young.

When I was a little boy, my Uncle Bilius would tell us stories he had heard from some of the ghosts at Hogwarts. Some would say you are taken to a place where you stay as your youthful self for eternity, in youthful splendor, attitude and beauty. A place full of light, music, laughter and love. A place where you could happily wait for your friends and that when their time came, you could continue on the journey with them.

Others say that you are one of God's choice spirits and rank high on the "food chain" on the other side. In other words, you would get run errands or "Messages" to some of the other angels when not sitting on a cloud and trying to learn how to play a harp.

Yet there are still some, Uncle Bilius would say with a smile, that say the gift is given to you to walk in two worlds. For a year, you can do this. For a year, you can walk your former pathway. You can see your friends, your family, you can even sneak a favorite food. You can hear their thoughts, you can put thoughts into their heads and in some cases,you can even step into another person's shoes and speak through them, Out of this situation there's only two catches- they can't see you and it only lasts for a year.

Oft times, people who choose this path don't stick with it. After a few days they snap out of frustration and return to a rest reserved for those that die young and wait to join their friends when their own time comes. They get on with their after life's. Others are wise and don't even choose to linger as a dead among the living.

But of course, I've never done that which was seen as wise.

_2 May 1998_

"_Don't worry about me Ange, I'll be fine," I smiled looking down into my favorite pair of amber eyes. Normally, they shone with the gentle laughter that I had grown accustomed to for years. It was only since the Death Eaters and Voldemort had shown up that the laugh I loved to see in her eyes slowly began to fade away._

"_Fred-please-please don't go out with Remus to the grounds. I don't have a good feeling about it—" she said again, her brow creasing into a fold. " Why don't you stay around Potter-he usually makes it out alright in the end."_

"_I'm not going with Remus, or Harry. I'm going with George and Mc G to barricade the castle. Really, you have nothing to worry about—" I said as I took her hands into mine, focusing our eyes together. "I promise that I'll come back. I want you to be safe, but don't waste your time worrying about me. I just want you to make sure you're alright."_

"_Where should we meet when it's over, 4__th__ floor corridor like old times?" _

"_Or behind me in the firing squad," I replied with a familiar snicker._

"_Fred!" she said, her face slightly aghast with horror. "What—or would you rather be the first to go? Sorry Ange, even if it is for a moment, I don't want to live without you. Call me selfish—but I demand to be the first to go…"_

"_Fred Weasley, what am I going to do with you?" she laughed, falling into my arms for a final embrace, the faint smell of magnolia's rising from her hair. "Oh I can tell you that," I whispered in her ear._

"_Oh? Enlighten me?"_

"_I'm going to take you out for dinner when all this is over, and we're going to go dancing in London—we'll shred the floor like it's the Yule Ball all over again. After that, I'll take you to the pub, we'll get so drunk— and wake up in the morning happily married."_

"_Fred—" I could hear a voice calling from behind._

"_I'll look forward to that—" Angelina smiled, leaning close to my face._

"Fred—_"_

"_You better, because I can't wait," I started, sealing the gap with a kiss._

"_Godspeed Fred Weasley," Angelina whispered as she let go of their embrace and kissed my cheek. _

"_Fred, come on McG's ready," George said, as he looked from me to Angelina. "Can I borrow my brother for a little bit?" he asked, looking at a witch rolling up her sleeves and pulling her hair back as though preparing for an exam and not a battle._

"_Only if you promise to return him to me afterwords," she replied, almost quickly, picking up her wand and heading out the doors of the Room of Requirement headquarters with us. " I mean it George—"_

"_Don't worry Ang, if anyone can keep me alive it's Geogie Boy," I smiled swinging his right arm around his brother's shoulders, George's left arm following in suit._

"_We're a double or nothing deal," George replied._

"_Came into the world together—"_

"_Often fight together—"_

"_So we'll probably leave this world together," I answered with a laugh as he watched her nod and smile as she turned the corner to join Flitwick and Wood._

"_Did you bribe Oliver?"I asked George as we ran down the stairs towards the Great Hall._

"_Wasn't much of a bribe—he's doing the same thing to Katie and Alicia. Personally, I don't think the women folk are going to like us much after we lock them in Gryffindor tower, but I'm counting they'll forgive us as soon as they see we're alive again," George answered grimly. "Did we do the right thing messaging them?" he asked, his hand brushing against the DA galleon in his pocket. _

"_Probably not, but they would've been angry with us either way," I sighed, shaking my head. "Honestly, of all the women we could fall for, we had to fall for the ones that want to fight—"_

"_Well dear brother, better those that would give all and fight than those that would do nothing and hide," George grimly sighed. "To be fully honest, I doubt Oliver will be able to keep them up there.'_

"_I agree—but if I tell myself that he can and that Angie's up there safe, then maybe I can make it through the next few hours. Oh well, time to go for it eh George?" i tried to feign smile. Hand on the door, we opened and entered the second staging ground._

_

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_

"Hello Minister!" Percy grinned as he cast his jinx towards the minister of magic as his knee's buckled. " Did I mention I'm resigning?"

I looked over my shoulder, to see a smile lighting up my elder brother's face. _This new Percy is better than I ever remember the old one…_As my own Death Eater I was dueling fell under a stunning spell I rushed to his brother's side with a matching smile, hardly noticing Ron, Ron's girl, and Harry joining our sides.

"Fred, Percy look out!" a voice called from up the stairs. I couldn't recall who it sounded like, perhaps it was Ginny? I was too caught up in the moment and had to congratulate Percy –this new him had to be encouraged least the old return.

"You're joking Percy!" I smiled, clasping his shoulder and laughing with him, "You actually _are_ joking- Perce, I don't think I've heard you joke since…"

Then a rumbling noise happened. Whatever the voice had tried to warn me had finally broken thru the castle's wall. I could hear what appeared to be the rushing of stone falling quickly to the ground. I could feel my feet, and quickly the rest of my body loose balance under the stone. I could hear screams, and what sounded like Percy calling out for me. I could feel more, harder stones join my pile and then—alarmed—I felt nothing.

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AN: I'm still fiddling with this idea, so feed back, as always, is appreciated. And I'm sorry I killed Fred... again.


	2. Greeters and Grims

I knew my body should have felt like the Knight Bus or one of those silly Muggle Double-deckers had hit it. All my natural instincts where telling me that I should be in loads of pain and being nursed by the loving hand of Angelina, the motherly hand of mum, or at the very least, a disgruntled Madame Pomfrey muttering something about how long could George and I keep cheating death.

Instead, I still felt nothing. Nothing immediately to my body. I flexed my toes and felt as though I was lying in an extremely soft cot. Obvious Madame Pomfrey had headed George and I's request and ordered new cots.

"Looks like he's coming too—" a mysterious voice said from my left.

_Ah, so we're going for choice number four of nursing hands—a Healer Trainee fresh from the Ministry Medical Center._

"He look's a little peaky—" a second voice said from the right. His was very similar to the first yet at the same time different. They voices where definitely related—_How cute, cousins that went to Med School together. Mummy must be so proud._

"Well wouldn't you look a little peaky if you just got avalanched by stone?"

"Don't they teach kids anything anymore? Back when MacMandel taught Defense Against the Dark Arts Day One they always said to fight in the open to avoid collapsing or collapsible structures—" The second chimed, sounding rather annoyed with this fact.

_Well, Obviously that piece of curriculum didn't make it to the new textbooks now did they? _I thought, wondering how long I should fake my slumber.

"Whatever you do don't bring this up when Sirius comes. You know how touchy his about the whole curtain episode…"

_You must be a rather slow Healer—Sirius died years ago…_

"Oh Gid, that's half the fun—"

"Molly's not going to like this," The voice called Gid said with melancholy.

_That bad doc?_ A sickening feeling began to sink in my stomach. _If mum isn't going to like my situation, will Angelina?_

"No one's going to like this Gid—D'you know if George knows yet?"

_George, Where's George—He was on the otherside of the hall when the wall went down, chasing someone through a broken window. He was moving; he could've gotten away…_

"I don't think so, Just Percy, Ron and Potter—Lord, I didn't even think of how that's going to go over—"

"So Potter's still alright?" Gid answered with relief evident in his low voice, relief that faded quickly as his companion's voice spoke "Lily, James, Lupin and Sirius just left. I don't think he's going to make it this time…and if Potter shows up you can bet we'll see a lot more people than Fred here…"

_Ginny. _

I could either keep my eyes and wait for more optimistic healers to come by, or I could open my eyes and meet my fate, composing myself for when Angelina came to visit. Composing myself so I could be there to help comfort Ginny—wait, Lily, James, Lupin and Sirius— they were all dead, they couldn't leave St. Mungo's—unless perhaps they had a painting near by….

My eyes flew open as I looked at the two identical, freckled faced red hair men sitting on opposite sides at the foot of my bed in the Hospital Wing. Both of them appeared more familiar in appearance then their voices had. They had to be related each other had a faint resemblance to mum in the eyes.

"Told you he was faking it—"the unknown voice said as a smile broke across his face.

"Good Morning little Freddie—course your not all that little anymore," Gid said, rising to stand up and pat my shoulder. He was tall, probably George and I's height—maybe up with Ron—

"Gideon, easy on the kid. He's had a rough afterlife already listening to the two of us," the stranger warned. "It's good to see you again Fred, just wish it could've been later. You came a little earlier than we expected."

"Came where? Who are you two?" I said flabbergasted. Wondering what sort of healers these people where. Obviously the kind with a sick, sick sense of humor. If "afterlife humor" was the new St. Mungo treatment I was worried what the purposes where.

"I guess Molly took our picture down in their room—remind me the next time we see her…" Gideon started.

"She took it down after Bill and Charlie started having nightmares about us, only natural—still you'd think he'd know his heroic Uncles—I guess we didn't make it on the Chocolate Frog cards after all."

"Damn ministry—I bet we didn't get Order of Merlin either," Gideon muttered under his breath.

"My Uncles—" I looked at the two again for a minute. It was defiantly not Bilius, this mysterious stranger. Bilius was many things, but only Heroic at weddings . . . _Gideon…_

"You're Gideon and Fabian," I answered, staring at the two living faces of my mum's dead brothers. "Am I hallucinating or have you lot been in hiding for 18 years?"

"You want to tell him or do you want me to?" Gideon asked, looking at his brother. "Be my guest—I had to tell the last one and he nearly conjured me into a tea cozy."

"Right—we'll Fred, are you comfortable?" He asked, "If you'd prefer we could talk at the Quidditch Pitch—I've never been a fan of the Hospital Wing."

"Shouldn't there be more people in here?" I asked looking at the vacant beds. Day light was streaming through the windows. "There was a bloody war going on, where are they keeping those that need to be treated? Why do I have a private ward?"

"Just get it over with Gid—" Fabian muttered as he got up to look out one of the windows facing the black lake. _Well Uncle Fabe is more irritable then I remember mum saying… Percy must take after him…_

"Well Fred—first off, you're not in your own private ward. And you're not in the Hospital Wing either, yo—'

'Well where the bloody hell am I?" I started, my blood slowly beginning to boil. "Where's my family? Where's Angelina?"

"You're on the other side Fred. I'm sorry but you experienced very severe head trauma when the wall came down. You're dead," Gideon said, placing his hand on my shoulder as though it would help.

"I'm not dead, I can't be. If I was dead—"

"Careful what you say," Fabian started, "Gid and I had the same issue when we came here. We said something about feeling pain and our guide was kind enough to hit us both on the side of the head with a two by four… sure could feel that and didn't make us any deader."

"If I was dead, George would be dead. You can't kill just one of us—"

"Last time I checked you have two ear's and George only has one . . . "

I looked around the room, starting to feel lightheaded. _Dead. Dead at 20. George, Angelina—_the sinking pit in my stomach began to grow deeper, as a stone seemed to sink in my heart.

"Would you like to see Hogwarts at Present? Like I said, never been a fan of the Hospital Wing," Gideon asked, "We could see how your brothers and sister and doing—maybe see if we can find any friend's your worried about— "

"Yeah—I suppose that's alright— "

Fabian joined me by his brother's side as we walked out of the wing and down the stairs, curses mistaken for thunder growing louder as we came closer to the front of the castle. "Don't worry kid. Acceptance is the hardest step. The Afterlife isn't all that bad…"

My eyes found the girl I had wanted to see most. Black residue from the outdoors smeared on her shirt, grime covered her ebony skin. _Ange—_her brown eyes still full of life, even amongst the tears beginning to flood them.

I broke from my uncle's side and began running towards her, trying to see if she was completely all right. She had what seemed like a limp on her right foot, it was to my relief her shoe was missing but a foot remain— I was just a few feet from her and then her voice let out a horrific scream never before heard on the Qudditch Pitch.

"No, No, please let it be—" she ran towards something I had when I walked over to her. Something that had been laid in a niche usually housing a suit of armor. She was hunched over something and she was kissing that something, and then holding it close to her as she shook.

Tears flowing dripped on a mop of red hair. Her gentle hands carefully cradling lifeless arms.

I had always told her that I was always more whole when I was with her. I told her that I felt that I was invincible with her by my side. With haunting eyes, I looked as she held me. My face stone, as if I had turned into one after the wall. A small trickle of blood like a teardrop went down from my ear down my neck. I tried not to look at me as much as the one I loved who was left to hold the empty shadow.

"_Fred, take me too. Please come back and take me with you— I want to go with you, come back for me, take me too"_ she pleaded into the lifeless ear, which echoed into my mind.

For that moment, as I joined with her in her sobs, I wished I could grant both of us our wishes.


	3. The First Step

An: Thanks for adding this story or faving it. I'm still fiddling with ideas and plots so reviews would be really helpful! Enjoy the Chapter!

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"You just had to tell him 'Acceptance was the hardest step—"' Gideon said to his brother, looking down the corridor where his nephew was trying to cradle the girl cradling his body. "Funny, this is looking familiar to me. What did you say to McKinnon when she told us that lie and you saw Georgiana's reaction to finding us back in '81…"

"I told her when she died, her heart must have turned to stone, because the Marlene I knew would never have been so heartless—" Fabian muttered, his eyes avoiding Fred. "Any way, he died in one piece, just a bit of blood on his head—minor cuts, he could still be open casket…weren't some our limbs missing when Giana found us?"

"Regardless, we should've waited," Gideon sighed, looking at the bleak view. It was like a horrific painting. His nephew dead on the floor in the arms of a crying friend, with a battle still being waged down the stairs in plain view, bits of rock still flying in the air every now and then. "It's my fault—I should've kept him in the Hospital Wing—it's my own fault I hate that bloody wing…"

" Gid—We shouldn't have offered him this," Fabian started, not helping his brother's new found guilty. "Why did we tell him we could go find his family? It's just cruel. For all we know he'll be there to witness his twin brother's death—heaven forbid if Ginny dies. And then, even if they all live, then the poor boy has to see them and know that they can't see him. Some godfather's we turned out to be. Molly was right, she should have picked Bilius…"

"Bilius Weasley was insane—only good for a drink at a wedding, and even then he'd only go on about grims and pull flowers out of awkward places. We're much better than him. "

"Insane he was, but even if he had drunk three barrels of Fire Whiskey he'd never have let Fred go thru what we've done—"

"You forget we get to tell him the good news. That he can—" all it took where the dagger blue eyes of his brother for Gideon to stop what he was purposing. "You think after going thru this he'll choose that path? No. We had to show him this now so he isn't tempted by that road."

"Just because you failed on that path Fabian—"

"He won't want that life Gideon," the elder brother responded coldly, his eyes locked on Fred. His cold tone deepened as he continued to avoid Gideon's eyes. "It's just like the tale Mum used to tell us. It's the immortal's hope of the Second Hallow, and a weak—vain hope it is."

" Fred, please wake up," Angelina begged again, looking at the pale and cold Fred Weasley. "If you wake up, I'll do anything—please—"

"I'm trying," I kept whispering in her ears "I'm trying my hardest my Lina—". He looked at his dead face. _Open your eyes damn it. Open your bloody eyes for her…you promised you'd make it, now open your eyes._

The thunderous sound of curses came to a quick end. "What the devil—"Angelina started, for the first time, pealing her eyes away from their watch of the motionless Fred.

I could hear the cold, harsh voice of Voldemort, calling for a cease fire and promising peace on the condition Harry surrender himself. I could hear the screams of other's realizing a death of another—with horrified eyes, I saw Bill turn the corner to see his dead brother's body lying in Angelina's lap.

As much as George and I argued that we were the lookers in the family—Bill had always had the looks. Even when he got mauled by Greyback last spring, he somehow still looked handsome. George and I had teased that it was just "Good Looks passed on by Fleur." Yet as I watched him realize what he was looking at, everything changed.

His normally composed face first became white and then a wave of grief became to take over—the face twisting itself in an skewed manner. Dropping to his knees he did a double glance at the face and then at the ears. _Really, must my ear serve as a dog tag?_ I thought. Realizing there was one of the living hold me he turned to Ange trying to compose his face for her sake at least.

Face composition—he aced with flying colors.

Voice composition—he was failing.

"How?" he croaked , just flicking his head over as though it was enough to get the information without looking at his dead brother.

"I dunno—Molly had asked me to come up and find Ginny. Said that she wanted me to go to the Room of Requirement and take Ginny back to The Burrow, you know, to wait it out" Angelina confessed,"I didn't want to go, but I-I promised M-molly." I knew she probably couldn't feel it, but I started rubbing her back, just as she did to me in my seventh year after an Umbridge event. "All I did was turn the corner and—"

"Bill— he didn't make it." Angelina croaked. " He promised me was going to be alright and that I shouldn't worry and then the bloody liar didn't make it," her tears again began to baptize my dead head. Bill's shaky hand found home on her shoulder "It's ok Angie—you did well. I'm sure wherever Fred is, he's in a better happier place then this—"

_Stop sniffing the glue Bill—if this is my happy place, I'd hate to see my Hell_ I thought to myself looking again beyond our scene and listening to the cries below.

"Here Angelina, I'll tell you what we'll do," Bill says in his soft, big brother voice. Putting a hand on her shoulder and looking in her eyes, flashbacks of him and a young Ginny coming to mind. "I'll carry him to the Great Hall, it's where we're keeping the dead for now, till we get him in the second round. I need you to let go of him for a minute, and let me take him to Molly ok? Can you do that for me?"

"Did anyone else we know—" Ange said, clutching my chilled, corpse hand tightly.

"I'm sure where ever Fred is, he's greeting friends right now." _For someone who's living, you sure have a messed up sense of the otherworld Bill. _The sinking stone in my stomach deepening at the thought of friends waking up next to dead, sick humored relatives.

It takes a while for her to let go, or at least it seems like a while. She slowly let's go of my cold fingers, as though doing so only finalizes my death to her; she looks at Bill as he lifts me up; I'm was almost as tall as him, but all those years being a curse breaker always made him the stronger. "I'll take care of him Angie," he says as he looks at the pain lining her face. "I'll take him to Molly—We'll take him to Molly."

Then she's jumps up before Bill is out of her voice distance, I stumble to stand by her side. "Bill—did, did George make it?" her question echoes in my ears. Half hoping for each outcome I look to Bill carrying the dead me.

"Yes, he's still alright," Bill says with a weak nod.

_But of course, after seeing me _I think as I join Bill and Ange, _he'll be anything but._

Just as I turn to follow them down the stairs, I feel hands pulling me back. Only this time, the hands can.

"OI—What the bloody—" I turn to see Gid and Fabian. Both pulling me backwards, using the same tactic George and I used to do of holding Ronald back, and down towards a corridor leading up towards Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't get you two, you let me come to the battle, only to find my dead self and girlfriend. That right there should have guaranteed you Uncles of the Year. Now, as they're taking me back to my family, you guys decide 'huh—shouldn't let him see them after all' and are currently pulling me up some forsaken…"

"I told you Gid—"Fabian says his eyes locked on some distant sight, not looking at me at all. "I told you we should wait—"

"Oh, yeah—we should've let him wait . Let him think he's just passed out we're part of his nightmare. Might as well just told him he wasn't dead, that the battle hadn't even started and rumor is Potter's in Sicily! Makes all the sense in the world…"his brother answered bitterly.

"Can I say something?" I asked, dealing with the fact that I'm still being dragged to some location still unknown to me.

"If its something along the lines of 'Mum said you got along better than this' I don't want to hear it," Fabian ordered, his happy uncle persona thrown completely out the window.

"Eerie, I was going to say something along those lines, Would you like to hear it Gid?" I ask to the man who is quickly becoming my favorite dead uncle.

"Not right now Fred, but maybe later one this prat—"

"Very mature Giddy—who taught you that trick?"

"Stop being such a stick in the mud Fabian— it's Fred's Death Day—"

"He and everyone else in Hogwarts…"

"Oh look, we're here," Gideon clears, finally releasing my elbow as he stares at the statue of the Weeping Maiden of Ludlow.

George and I had walked by the statue many times. Each time wondering why it was there. According to the plaque it was in memory of a young bride who cried and grieved so much after her husband' s long and painful death from the witch hunts that she gave up her magic and turned into a weeping willow to stop her crying eyes. The statue didn't show her in tree form which was the part that made us wonder. Most statues at Hogwarts excelled in the weird and super natural.

This statue however had the Weeping Maiden standing, her lower body slowly turning into the roots and trunk, her hands covering her weeping eyes and her face etched in a pain that I know recognized from Ange's face.

"Hello Sarah," Gideon smiled as he put his hand on her stone shoulder.

The statue moved, her hands falling from blocking the face and showing facial expression smoothing out from how I had always seen it. She looked very attractive for a statue, a pleasant smile forming as her eyes met Gideon's.

"Password?" the statue named Sarah asked in a faux happy tone.

He mutters something that I can make out, it sounds like German or perhaps something else from the continent. The statue nods, pointing her hand to a set of stones that are now clearing a doorway.

"I don't recognize this one Mr. Prewett—is he new?" The statue asks looking at me, her empty eyes searching me up and down. "Wait—he and his brother go to school here—or they did, not long ago?"

Fabian places his hand on my shoulder, "This is our nephew Fred. He didn't make it. Arrived today—"

"That's so sad," the statue named Sarah remarked, her happy voice replaced with grief finally surfacing, lines of pain beginning to reappear on her face" Sad—He's j-just like Arthur— he died young too—"

"Best thru the door before she goes off again," Gideon nudges as he and Fabian shuffle through the secret doorway before her tears and grief summon the stone to return again to their wall formation.

"Where are we going? I ask as I follow the two up a dark staircase. "You know, for tour guides of the other side, you're both rather tight lipped."

"We'll explain once we get there—" one of the voices, I supposed Fabian wit his vagueness, sounded.

"Don't worry Fred—it's just part of the journey, judging by your day, you're taking this all really well, " a different voice—I was guessing the helpful one of Gid's, sounded from the darkness.

The darkness began to lift and light from a common room began to flood the stairs. My two uncles entered the doorway first and then I followed, looking at a room that was like The Leaky Cauldrons Pub or perhaps The Three Broomsticks.

On one side it looks like the Pub, a bar being tended to by a witch with black hair talking to several people sitting on stools. A young man's reading a news paper at a distant table drinking what looks like Butterbeer. A girl's sitting by a window, looking rather sad or deep in though. I turn my head to the other side of the room and see couches and chairs surrounding the fireplace, light was flooding down from the stained glass windows. A staircase leading to rooms in the far corner.

There were a few other people milling in the room. Some looking as confused as I feel. One of the Creevy boys talking to a girl with long brown hair. Some girl from Hufflepuff is crying in the shoulders of someone else, obviously realizing where she now is. _So much for a place where you don't cry—_I think before hearing an all too familiar voice.

"Wotcher Fred!" exclaims an all too happy Tonks, "What are you doing here?"

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AN: So i'll be the first to say, Fabian and Gideon-Probably two of my favorite character's never written about :)


	4. Escape Routes and Inbetweens

D: All Disclaimers still apply.

AN: Thanks for the story/fav./ect. y'all are amazing. Carry on...

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Even in the here after, Tonks can hug me until I feel bruises are forming.

"So I'm taking it you didn't make it either—" I stammer with the breath I still have left. Tonks lets go and looks up at me with wide eyes and her usual bubble gum pink hair. For a minute I think perhaps I should've been more sensitive with her death, but her slight smile proving me wrong. _At least someone seems to have sarcasm still… Maybe it doesn't die with you after all and my Uncles are just boring, dead prats..._

"No—Dolohov and Bellatrix got me after they finished Remus," she explains, sitting down with me at a table as though we've met for a drink. "Course I didn't see them get me, the bastards felt it was necessary to shoot me while my back was turned." I can notice the tips of her hair turning red as though expressing her inner anger. "The only good thing that's come out of this is at least we died together."

_Leave it to Tonks to find a bright side in this sort of situation._ "Wait—where's Teddy?" I ask coming to the realization that this war has created yet another orphan.

"He's still at my Mother's place, she's moved to a cottage outside of Leeds after they got Dad. Teddy should be safe there. I told mum if she didn't hear from us by eight in the morning she needed to leave England and to take Teddy with her. She and Dad had a couple of Muggleborn friends that fled to Denmark when the war started, they'd be safe there. I told her this is our catalyst—if Potter doesn't survive tonight, neither will any of those still left. If Mum runs, Teddy can still have a chance."

"And I always thought you were the optimist—" I chuckle slightly, deciding that the bright side came with a dark one too. George and I had always wondered what would happen if Potter died before You-Know-Who. We knew that it wouldn't fare well, but we also thought that maybe, even if he _did _die, Ron or Hermione might be able to finish whatever Harry had started. Now, with Potter's death strangely looming in the future, I asked" So Harry's still—"

"For now, but I don't know how much longer," Tonks sighed looking out the window. "Not long after we got here, James, Sirius and Lily came to get Remus. They were— well Potter, he summoned them. I didn't know you could do that but Dumbledore left him something that would do that… apparently, you can _only_ summon the dead _when_ you yourself are about to join them."

"So—So Harry's dying?" I'm sure if I was alive the color would be fading. Potter. Harry Potter. The kid who'd spent summer after summer in the room next door. The kid George and I had liberated from his Uncle's in a flying car. The man my sister loves. My brother's best mate. Mum's seventh son. The kid who gave George and I the money to open the store…_If Potter doesn't survive tonight, neither will anyone left…_I had earlier thought that it wouldn't be that bad if George or Angelina died too. But the thought of them dead and evil winning didn't bring the happy thoughts I had originally hoped for. Yes, we'd be together and _maybe_ happy...but then _he'd _have won...

"He's not dead yet," a voice says quiet blankly from a couch near the fire. I look over to see the boy who'd been comforting the girl earlier. Taking a second glance, I could make out his face easier and see Cedric Diggory, sitting in his Hogwart's Champion outfit, just what he had worn when he had died, even that faint but cocky "I-beat-you-at-Quiddtich" smirk plastered on his face.

"Diggory?" I asked, taking a better look. _Great Fred, you get to spend your afterlife with the wonderful pretty boy…I'd ask someone to shoot you but that wouldn't put you out of your misery anymore…although maybe the second time around you'd wake up to a cute little witch feeding you grapes while another fawns over your bravery and battle scars…_

Cedric nodded, stood up and extended his had to shake mine. I shouldn't be surprised that it's not the cold I've always imagined the dead have. It's normal. Just as though I've shaken George's hand. Cedric seems to notice my fascination and says, "Just because you're dead in one place doesn't mean you're dead in all places."

"What are you talking about?" I ask sitting down on the sofa, trying to be the picture of ease.

"Well, you're dead in the world. You know, Hogwarts, London, Earth. There—you're dead. Here—in this place— you're not."

"Listen Cedric, I've had enough of these vague little death conversations with my uncle, you're really not helping. So either you start speaking sense or I'm just going to have to try and find my escape route…"

A smile seems to crack Cedric's face. "Oh, so they didn't tell you where you are?"

"Nope. All I got out of my brief post death experience is that I'm dead. I'll be the first to admit though I'm rather upset George and I's dog hasn't greeted me yet. The Silly mutt—so much for man's best friend…" I joke at first and then realize I sort of miss that mutt—if only we hadn't tested the explosives that one day...oh Sparky…

"Dog's can't come to this place, it's only for wizards and witches," Cedric explains casually as though he's probably had to do this many times. "You'll see Sparky when you move on—don't worry."

"Move on where? And Where am I know—wait how did you know," I start trailing, wondering how in the world Diggory knew my mutt's name.

"You're in the Wizarding equivalent of Limbo…. Or I guess the In between—Not Purgatory, this place is. . . "

"So I'm not dead," I start quickly, "And this is all just a horrific nightmare and I'll wake up to George snoring at Muriel's?"

"No Fred, You're dead," Cedric explains again clasping his hand on my shoulder. "But, since you're of magic blood, and you died before your twenty-fifth year, you're here. Catchy, that rhymes…"

I can feel myself quickly begin to loose patience. I hadn't liked this guy when I was living and now I can tell I'm not going to like him in my present state either…

"Where exactly is here?" I ask, channeling my inner calm which is all but spent "Other then this Limbo-In between crap, where am I and _why _am I here?"

"Died Young," He shrugs simply, not helping my general frustration. "And what does that mean?"

"It means that you _Died Young_, before you met your prime. Before you accomplished dreams, destinies etc., Some people call this the extension of the second hallow. You're here because you either didn't accomplish all you wanted in life, you died young, or you're not yet ready to move on." Cedric says, as though his patience has worn as thin as my own. "You're only granted a single year here. One year after your death and then you have to move on."

"Where do we move to?" I ask, trying to process everything.

"On. Each person has a different sort of heaven. Mine's a quiet village like the one I grew up in. James and Lily have their own little Godric's Hallow. It's nice there, Sirius lives next door and the Dumbledore's are down the street. It seems like life there—. Anyways, knowing you—" _Oh because you know all about me Mr. 'I'm-deader-than-you-so-I-Know-all'—"_I'm guess you're heaven is a mix of Zonko's and your shop."

I close my eyes and try and evaluate everything that's happened over the past view hours. First off, I'm dead. After I get past that little road block, Ange knows I'm dead, but is still very alive, but grieving. That gets my heart—Angelina shouldn't grieve, it doesn't suit her… regardless, by this time, George probably has that same information in his data base. Thirdly, I'm stuck with some crazy uncles—one of whom is surprisingly irritable and the other somewhat too helpful. And what more: I'm stuck in between my former life and my afterlife.

Better yet, I'm stuck with a bunch of know-it-all dead people.

* * *

"So how's he taking it?" the woman with shoulder length black hair behind the bar asked Gideon as she fixed him a drink. " Did he pull a Robinson and try turning you into a tea cozy?"

Gideon laughed, shaking his head as he took the drink. "No, luckily we avoided that bullet. Thought we were going to have to do something he had such a hard time believing us. He's doing about as well as any of us ever do," Gideon sighed, looking over at his nephew who was still having what looked like a heated conversation with the Diggory boy.

"Actually, slightly worse. I tried to explain the death clause but he won't hear it. He's taking it a lot like Fabian did. This whole death thing. I—er, I made the mistake of saying we should look around and see if any of his friends were still ok and we stumbled upon his body and still living girlfriend finding it."

The woman took in a breath and shook her head, "Just like Giana and Fabian, poor lad."

"Exactly like Giana and Fabian. Fabe was in a good mood too up until that point. In a sick way, I think he was just as excited as I that we'd get to see Fred. He's half our namesakes. And we were his favorite uncles when we were alive. But he's been a stick in the mud ever since the Fred and Johnson episode. It was a painful flashback for him."

"Then maybe Fabian should speak to him—you know, explain what happens next," the woman glanced at the new red head and his uncle who was now talking with Tonks; she didn't know who looked more devastated. The boy who was dead only four hours or the man who had been dead for near eighteen years.

"I think they're too much a like to be honest. Any how, Fabian would explain biasedly. He doesn't want him to choose the path he did. He doesn't want him to get hurt like he did I think—"

"Well, either you or your brother explain or find someone who can," the woman instructed, staring at him with her startling green eyes. "The sooner he knows, the sooner he can begin to adjust. Fred needs that—and since you two wanted to greet him so bad, you two should be the ones to see to it he gets that chance to adjust."

Gideon gave her a smile, "Thanks Diana, I can always count on you."

The woman named Diana simply nodded "If I had a sickle for every time I had heard that…" before she continued to clean the mugs, the redheaded Gideon sliding off his stole to look for some he knew could explain Death best. . .

* * *

AN: For Some reason, I like being mean to the newly dead Fred. . . and lets face it, we all like(d) Cedric Diggory at one point or another... oh well, read, review/complain/offer suggestions below. -kh


	5. Lily

_An: hey guys, sorry I'm reposting this; I've never been the best in grammar and spelling but I realized when I updated last night I didn't upload the spellcheck approved document. So, please forgive all spelling errors, my spellcheck quill is still in the mail. Don't let that discourage you, carry on! (and don't worry, i'm looking into a beta...)-kh_

* * *

I am not a fan of moping.

George and I always thought that if we were depressed, we look to much like Percy. Maybe that's one of the reasons why we were so gun-ho about keeping the shop open up until the very last moment—We didn't want other people to be depressed or ourselves succumb to Percy appearance. It only brings wrinkles, premature grey hair, obnoxious horn-rimmed glasses, and chases the women away after all. Although we had our girls-Ange and Katie Bell-we knew quite well that Percy wasn't their type.

Moping wasn't our style. It wasn't who we were. We were the anti-moppers. We were one in the same—a double sided sickle… and now, the sickle was split in half and I, feeling as though I was about to become the traitor in some great story, found myself sitting on the couch in some dead-end pub, gazing at the fire and, worst of all- moping.

"Hello Fred!" the ever to happy Gideon says, sitting down at my side. I remembered thinking that perhaps he was going to be my favorite uncle in this new _situation_, but his permanent happiness was starting to come off more as an excited puppy than a caring and guiding figurehead.

"Oh, Hi Gid," I say casually, still keeping my eyes on the fire as though if I did long enough, perhaps I can disappear from existence all together. Legend said it could happen, and at this point, I'd take any escape route. If this was the door to heaven, I didn't want to know what the path to Hell was. . .

"Stop doing the old fire trick, many a people have tried it and all you get are angry dead people with sore eyes," Gideon kidded, putting a hand on my back "Whatever Professor Binns said about Herkel Danteanous was a lie—never happened. Never trust a fool with part of his surname as _Dante _ for crying out loud..."

"Can you just hear my thoughts or have I really become that predictable?" I mock, still keeping my eyes locked on the fire. "Believe it or not I'm usually not that easy to read—"

"You're a lot like us Fred, your Uncle and I. We went through this too—you should have seen Fabian on his death day, I'd never seen him like that in any of my lives…" he trailed, trying not to look at his brother who was now talking with James, Sirius and Lupin. I suppose I should go up and greet them. Last time I remember seeing Sirius alive George and I threatened to fight him. Maybe he had forgotten that…but hell, even if he hadn't it wasn't like he could kill me here.

"But I have some good news, you'll probably be happy to hear—" the Uncle started. I wasn't going to turn all excited. I just gave the grunt Ron usually did when he was giving the silent treatment to someone. _Great, I've turned into Percy and Ron. I am in Hell._

_ "Potter survived," I feel my neck move my head from the fire to my uncles face._

"He did?" A wave seemed to come over my mind. _They still have a chance. They all still have a chance…Angelina has a chance..._

"Yes he is. Pulled a Lily and sacrificed himself for them all, but he was able to come back and-"

"Hold it," I interrupt. The happiness I had felt quickly flee as my dead madness reappeared. "Potter _died_ and _got to go back?_ Why the devil does he get to go back and I'm stuck here? Are the fates elitists? If I but a bloody bolt on my forehead can I go back too? Just because I didn't stand up and say kill me-"

"Maybe I should take it from here," I hear a calm voice coming from behind me. "Go ahead and talk to James, Gid, he'll tell you all about it—" The voice says as she sits down on my other side. I can't take my eyes off her. She looks like she's a few years older than I and wears a simple gold band on her left hand. She doesn't have freckles and her eyes aren't the brown, but rather emerald one's I've spent my summers with. Regardless, she looks like she could be an older Ginny—an older, green-eyed, _married _Ginny… _but Ginny's not dead...she can't be..._

"Who are you?" I ask, still perplexed by the woman with green eyes and red hair.

"I'm Lily Potter," The woman explains, locking her emeralds with my eyes. "And your one of the Weasley's sons, aren't you?" she asks with a sparkle in her eyes, something pulling at her lips as she says my last name.

I begin to nod and then without any reason (other than perhaps my answer) Lily jumps at me, giving a hug that rivals the strength of one of mum's or Tonks. All air comes rushing out of the lungs as I feel her hold me tighter and tighter in a boa constrictor grasp. As air begins to return to my lungs, I can feel her kiss my cheeks and slowly let go of my surly fractured body. _It's a good thing I'm dead the way these women keep grabbing me, _I think, _either death makes them stronger or I'm a pansy now and anything takes my breath away..._

"I'm sorry, I—Thank you, _Thank You,_ for all you ever did for my Harry," she explained looking away as though slightly ashamed she jumped to such a greeting. "When I found out that one of the Weasley's didn't make it, I wanted to meet and thank you as soon as I could—You're Fred Right?"

I don't know if I should be flattered or slightly disturbed that a dead, married lady had wanted to seek out a Weasley, let alone that she could tell who I was out of the collection… but then again, I had to adjust to the fact that the new crowd I was to hang out with was all dead and myself included.

I decide to go along with this, after all, it was just Harry's dead mum. "How—"

"I've seen you lot before—from, well from beyond. Just glimpses every now and then. And Sirius talks about you lot every now. Usually when I get worried about him; Sirus, he's always telling me not to worry, Molly will take care of Harry," Her eyes gleam out of appreciation to mum, a she goes on, " I know enough. No earring or wedding ring, so you're not Bill. You don't have scorch marks on your arms and you're rather tall so you're not Charlie. Percy would have Glasses, and wouldn't have wanted Gideon to greet him, George has one ear and you have two. I know you're not my son's best mate, I actually saw him thru a mirror once... And I'm sorry, you're a boy so obviously not Ginny. You _must _be Fred—" Lily smiled before going on. "You still have the sight aroma of explosives on you."

"Well, that usually a sure fire sign of who is who," I shrug, Lily smiling in agreement before she begins her inquisition again. _For a dead person, she sure smiles a lot, _ I think puzzled. Obviously I was missing something in my moping and there was really something to be happy about in this knew found world. Lily's smile fades as she looks me over. "How have you been doing? You've had a difficult few hours, haven't you?"

I'm surprised by the water that seems to be coming to my eyes. _Stop. _I order. _Stop you bloody eye-ducts. _I've met my quota for crying for the year when I was with Angie. No more tears—it's not the Fred way… and yet they still come down. Creeping out of the corners of my eyes as my voice stays steady.

"I've sure had better," I explained, keeping my eyes distant, trying again to return them to the fire. "I keep hoping I'm going to wake up and this is all a nightmare. But it isn't, is it?"

Lily's arm wraps around my shoulders as she shakes her head. "No—this, this is all too real. I'm so sorry Fred, you're not going to wake up. Not there anyway," my head rests on her shoulder. I can't believe it—I didn't mean to, it felt natural, as though she's mum and I know I can just fall apart and she won't care. I decide to crack a joke "You know, for Harry's dead mum, you have great mothering skills."

She gives a chuckle, "Thank you Fred," she answers, arm still wrapped around my shoulders, rocking me gently as she must once have rocked Harry. In a soft tone she murmurs, "You're mother has become my best friend and hero for all she's done for Harry over the years. The least I can do is now begin to pay a fraction of the favor back."

I sit there for a minute, traitorous tears still leaking from the eyes. One for not being able to marry Ange, and the world that would've been. One for George and missing seeing him raise a family in the shop. One for each sibling…one for each future child, for each niece and nephew I'll miss, for each possible child I could have had, One for Ginny's wedding to Harry, One for Angelina's marriage to some faceless character...

"Do you want me to tell you where you are? About what happens next?" she asks in a soft, gentle tone, like she's explaining something that shouldn't scare you. I recognize it's the same tone mum used on Ron after we charmed his teddy bear—it's even an echo of what Bill spoke to Angelina. The tone that tries to be the band-aide. The tone we all want to believe will stop the hurt, but know it will only numb it.

"Sure—that'd be nice," I say lifting my head from her shoulder and looking at her intently. Even if it numbs, anything has to beat the hurt.

"When you're magic, death is different," Lily starts, in a voice like she's reading a story from the Tales of Beetle. "Death isn't the dark event stories make it out to be. It's only as dark as you want it. As a wizard, when you die, you can choose between remaining on earth as a Ghost, or you can choose to go on—to the heavens, your new place of residence."

"Diggory said it was the place where you were most happy," I interrupt. "Is that the case?"

"Sometimes. James and I were most happy being parents in Godrics Hallow, so that make's sense. But Moony's happy years here at Hogwarts and he probably won't spend his eternities there. It's often where ever you want to be. With friends, with people who love you best. But we'll get to that in a minute, can I go on?" she asks as I nod. She keeps her arm around my shoulders, still offering her calming warmth and strength as she goes on.

"Now, when you're young and a witch or wizard, you have even more choices. To die young, the first of our kind decided, was a curse no one ought endure. They believed that to have your life taken before it began should never occur. But what could be done, the asked. Some purposed creating a charm that could summon the dead youth back, but others were wise enough to know that would only lead to disaster. So they created this place, were youth could linger. As long as you die before the end of you're twenty-fifth year, you are sent to this place, called Died-Young, or the Youth's Hallow, before you move on to the Ghost-Heaven choice. This place," she looks around at the pub that's starting to look more lively as people mill about, toasting to Voldemort's soon defeat, "This place is just a stopping point before you go on to something bigger. Does that make sense?"

"Why Twenty-five?" I ask curiously. "Well, it fluctuates throughout the eras. But around that age, people start achieving goals they had in life. Your Uncle Fabian was about to get married in his twenty fifth year, Tonks just became a mother in her twenty fifth—it's the age when dreams are realized."

"So I'm hear because I'm twenty and didn't achieve anything?" I ask somewhat disappointed. Surely the shop counted for something.

"Oh you achieved lots," Lily explains, "No human life is ever wasted Fred. Each life does something amazing—even if for just a brief moment. You and your brother made a difference in this world—you kept people laughing during some of the darkest days. You showed nerve, determination, dedication, bravery. But you left before you could achieve all.

This place is the in between, where for one year, you can return and walk your past. It'll be like you're under an invisibility cloak—you can see your family and friends, hear their thoughts, and sometimes, if you try hard enough, you can suggest thoughts to them."

"But when I was with Ange, I couldn't hear her thoughts—or Bill's—" I start, " When people are really distressed, or torn up about something, sometimes their thoughts are just what they say-or even better their actions. I'm imagining seeing someone they loved so much dead tore their thoughts to shreds" Lily sighed. " When people grieve, they feel many things at once-their thought's change so quickly, there is no rhyme or reason. When Sirius found us, Well—his grief kept us from hearing his thoughts— If we had known he was going to go after Peter-things would've been different."

"So for a year I can go back? What's the point of seeing people move on without you?" I ask, the thought of seeing Angelina either spend a year grieving or slowly being charmed by a new, faceless low life not exactly what I was looking forward to.

A smile surprisingly returned to Lily. "That's the question many ask. But few understand. The point of this place, your mission while you're here is to help those you love move on from you're death and in so doing , allows you to do some of those things you wanted to do in life."

"So I want people to forget about me?" I asked less then amused at this thought. The day I willingly surrender Angelina to some two face ignoramus not likely coming. Or better yet, if I wanted George to forget me, I'd sell the shop and burn the planning books we had...

"Never forget Fred, But to remember you and remember healthy. Angelina and George, they're going to need help, and you can offer it. You can give them the comfort they need. "

"And I have to do this for a year or what's my other choice?" I ask, the thought of being invisible—once entertaining—now less then appealing.

"Several people start on this path, they try but for some reason or another give up. Those that decided to not do their year go on to choose between ghost or beyond. But for those that do complete it, they become what we call a guardian. One who can move between the worlds whenever they wish, and help those they love and left behind. Some choose to stay and wait for their friends they left to join them. That's another option, but a boring option all the same. As a guardian, you come and go from this place as you please. When it's George's time and he passes to the next world, you'll be his greeter, head of the welcoming committee, etc,."

_Regardless if I do this year of babysitting, I'd be the first to see him. He's my bloody twin..._"Anyone I know one of those?"

"In recent memory, there's only been four Guardians. James and myself, your Uncle Gideon, and Diana Wallace, the barmaid over there," She says, pointing to the witch with black hair pouring what looks to be a Fire Whiskey.

"Does that help any Fred?" the motherly voice asks, her arm still around my back, just like she's my little mum.

I give a nod, "When do I have to choose?"

"Sooner than later. Your decision must be made before the end of your Funeral which will be the 5th of May," Lily says as she stands up, offering her hand to help me up.

"My Funer—" the thought becomes cold. Lying in a tomb like Dumbledores. Alone. Cold. Bug Food…

"Welcome to the afterlife," Lily says, squeezing my hand as James and his friends motion for us to come over for the toast to the living, made by the dead.

* * *

AN:_Sorry this was probably too long, and a glorified repeat of last chapter. I just felt we'd been so mean to Fred, what with killing him all and having to hear Cedric explain death, he needed to meet someone kind like Lily. More on James, Sirius and the other's next chapter, but any ideas are always welcome (along with any questions, comments or concerns.) _

Someone pointed out that according to the "Once you're dead a year, you move on" Maunders, Fab and Gid, Cedric, should all be gone. Don't worry, I'm addressing that in the next chapter. Let's just say the best thing about being a wizard, most times you can create a loophole! Thanks for your words of support guys and also the adds, etc.-You're really amazing.-kh


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